


The Other Side: Part Thirty

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Crying, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Vaginismus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 11:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: And things hit the wall...hard. Dean's increasingly erratic behavior leads Carrie to find out something that was better left not confronted.





	The Other Side: Part Thirty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Domino_Darkwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domino_Darkwolf/gifts).



Carrie grabbed Dean's hunter green jacket off of the nightstand where he'd left it and went to toss it into the corner. She paused as a waft of perfume trailed up to her as she moved it. It hit her like a wall. She paused, frozen, unsure if her nose was deceiving her, but she moved the fabric and it came again. Perfume. Distinctly.

 

Her heart gave an unpleasant lurch and she blinked back tears. She took a breath and tried to give herself time to process it. As she stood there, the smell of women's perfume hit her again, strong on the lapel. 

 

Her breath caught and she stepped away. 

 

She looked at Dean dozing on her bed. He looked angelic. The planes of that face. The curve of those lashes. The gentle rise and fall of his chest as he lay. 

 

He seemed to sense her looking at him. He blinked awake sleepily. 

 

She turned her back to him and bit her trembling lip. 

 

"Hey babe." He whispered, his voice gravelly. "Come back to bed. I need a bed warmer."

 

That struck her the wrong way. 

 

"I need to get stuff done." She told him, keeping the emotion out of her voice, blinking furiously as a wave of emotion hit her. Her heart felt like it was going to break. 

 

"Stuff can wait." He said, oblivious to her upset.

 

She hesitated. How was she going to be able to do this? Keep her feelings to herself? 

 

She felt him reach out a hand and snag hers. He gave a little tug. She went with it and he pulled her down into his arms. Carrie tried to keep her back to him so that he was spooning her from behind and couldn't see her expression. 

 

He nuzzled her neck and kissed it. A chill went up her spine, her muscles tensed and she fought the urge to pull away. His hand stroked her arm. 

 

A wave of panic swept through her. 

 

"Let me go!" She disentangled herself from him and stood up, breathing heavily. 

 

He looked baffled and concerned. "What's wrong?" 

 

"I need air." She whispered hoarsely, almost panting with the attempt to restrain her tears. Carrie turned and left the room. 

  
  


Dean came out several minutes later. He'd pulled his clothes back on. He still looked a little disheveled. "What's wrong?" He asked again. 

 

Carrie paused from shoving clothes into the washer machine and then continued. She didn't know what to say without setting off an explosion. She wasn't sure she was ready for the fall out. She brushed her tears away with the back of her arm. 

 

"What's wrong?" He asked.

 

She turned her back to the washer and leaned up against it as the water began to fill. It occurred to her she'd forgotten clothes soap. 

 

"Carrie." He said.  

 

"You were with another woman." Her voice was soft. 

 

He paused. Stunned. Said nothing. 

 

"Your jacket smelled like perfume." The words fell heavy in the room. 

 

He ran a hand over his face, turned his shoulder slightly toward her and then faced her again. "I never said we were exclusive."

 

"You...told me that you hadn't been with anyone else in a long time. That you hadn't had sex in a long time."

 

He furrowed his brow. "When?"

 

"Months ago!"

 

"Well, I hadn't."

 

Her eyes welled with tears. "Why?" She asked in a small voice. "I'm not enough..." she could feel her lower lip start to tremble.

 

"Let's not do this.” His expression was unreadable. “You don't want to hear this."

 

Behind her the washer started to sway as it agitated the laundry. She could hear the sloshing inside it.

 

"Why aren't I enough?"

 

He sighed, shook his head. "It's not enough that I keep coming back to you, huh?" He rubbed his temple and looked up at her. "There's no ring on my finger." 

 

A tear tracked down her cheek and she shrugged. 

 

The tear affected him, only instead of softening him, he became angry. "Don't pull this crap on me! I've got enough on my plate!" He shook his head. "I never lied to you. I never tried to mislead you."

 

"You don't think it hurts anyway!" She shot back. "How would you feel?"

 

His jaw tightened and he didn't say anything. 

 

"You get off on being the only guy ever to be inside me. Would you feel great if you knew there was others?"

 

His look turned stormier. "It's your body..." he replied. 

 

"Bullshit! You wouldn't like it!" She wiped her face with her arm, her throat tight and aching.. "How long ago was it? Did you come right here after?" 

 

He looked offended. "That's...nothing you need to know about and none of your damned business!"

 

She stepped back as he said it. She knew she should meet the challenge.

 

Instead, she backed up another step. "Don't yell at me. " She replied lowly. "I..." she hiccuped. "I don't deserve to be yelled at." The tears kept coming, the lump in her throat hurt so badly. 

 

Her soft calmness almost seemed to take him aback. 

 

"I don't know what you want from me."

 

She didn't answer because she didn't know what she wanted either. 

 

"I knew this was a mistake from the start." He added, frustrated. 

 

She let out a sob. "Thanks."

 

"That's not what I meant. I... I knew you were gonna get attached."

 

"Attached?!” She yelled. “Of course I'm  _ attached.  _ I love you!"

 

Her throat tightened as she fought breaking down completely. Where was her self respect? Why wasn't she meeting him with FIGHT? She had a man for the first time and she was going to be one of those women that let him walk all over her. She corrected herself mentally. She had a fuck buddy for the first time. That was even more pathetic. 

 

"You're the only girl I care about." He replied softly, his eyebrow arched into something earnest and pleading. 

 

"How often?" She asked, ignoring the assertion. 

 

His brows drew together. "What's it matter?"

 

"It just does."

 

"Carrie..." 

 

"Great," she replied. "Is it all the time...am I gonna end up with a venereal disease?"

 

"I use protection when I'm inside someone. I'm not gonna bring somethin home to you." His voice dropped a register. "I'm not a piece of shit, Carrie."

 

Something about hearing the words that he'd been inside someone made her anxiety spike. Made it seem more real. She gasped and turned her back to him, struggling. 

 

She felt like she was going to hyperventilate. 

 

Dean put a hand on her back. "Sweetheart."

 

"Why?" She sobbed. 

 

He was quiet. "Cause I'm on the road. I don't see you for weeks, Care. _ Weeks. _ Sam and I are in the trenches with things you can't imagine." His voice took on a strained edge. "I've seen things I would never fucking TELL you! Sometimes I need to let off steam."

 

She bowed her head, her lower lip trembling. She could feel her nose running. 

 

"I can't--" he kicked the baseboard of the wall with his foot. 

 

Carrie cringed. 

 

"I cannot DO this right now! I never lied to you!" Dean whirled and she heard his boots across the floor. --The slamming of the door and the growl of the engine as he took off. 

 

She let out a loud sob. Crushed. Knowing she had no right to be. He’d never really been anything but honest after all.

 

She belatedly realized he'd left his olive jacket. 

 

* * *

  
  


It was some time before he came back. Carrie had finished her laundry like an automaton, sniffing and crying half the time, feeling like a weak asshole. What was she doing? What did she want out of this whole thing? What the hell was she expecting? Did she REALLY think he was faithful to her? 

 

She teared up again when she realized that somehow part of her had. Or maybe she just wanted it so much that she imagined it. 

 

Why wasn't she enough for him? Why did it even matter to her whether she was or not? 

 

There was a knock at the door. She opened it. Dean stood there, his hair askew, his features drawn. 

 

Her heart skipped a beat and she couldn't meet his gaze. He looked away from her, ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Okay. Got my head clear. You wanna talk, we can talk."

 

She didn't know what to say. She could feel a small tremble in her leg. 

 

Dean walked in and closed the door behind him. It clicked shut. He looked down at her, probably took in how miserable and alone she felt and sighed. 

 

She had to restrain herself from apologizing, which was her natural impulse. 

 

"What do you wanna hear?"

 

She shrugged, swallowed. 

 

"I told you. And I told you more than once I can't do the monogamous thing."

 

She swallowed hard and nodded. "I... I thought you loved me."

 

"God, chicks, man." Deans breath came out in an impatient sigh. "Why can't you get through your heads that sex and love are not the same thing? They have nothing to do with each other."

 

"They have everything to do with each other."

 

"No, they really don't."

 

"For me they do."

 

"Well," Dean said. "That's where we are different. I need a release fuck sometimes, Carrie."

 

She looked away. "In my heart I knew you were still fucking other women but I guess I fooled myself into thinking that I was enough." She started to choke up again. Stopped to regain control. "But I could pretend you weren't until it was thrown in my face."

 

"I didn't mean to  _ throw  _ it in your face. I didn't know my damned clothes smelled like perfume."

 

"Was it recent?"

 

He bristled. "That's none of your business."

 

"I'm fucking you too. It seems like it's very much my business!" She felt a small flicker of anger. "How would you feel if you came over here, had sex with me and some guy's cologne was all over my pillow."

 

He grew quiet and she could tell he didn't like the idea. 

 

"I think," and here he had a wave of emotion pass over his face and his jaw shook. "Maybe... maybe we need to end this. This isn't fair to you."

 

Carrie burst into tears. 

 

Dean stood ineffectually and blinked back his own tears, his face coloring with emotion. "Aww. Babe. Don't do this to me."

 

She put her arms around herself, shivering, feeling like a moron and trying to stop crying. 

 

She couldn't. She loved him so much..she didn't want him to leave. 

 

He looked so uncomfortable caught in her display of emotion. "Hey," he choked. "Care..."

 

"No." She whispered. "Please."

 

"Sweetheart," she could see him attempting to master himself, obviously trying to man up in the face of her tears. 

 

"Do you really want this to end?"

 

"No. Of course not." She saw his face twist under the stress stress a little. "But I CANNOT handle this crap, Carrie. I have SO much on my plate. I can't add more. So you need to make up your mind right now."

 

She blinked, looking like a heartbroken little girl without realizing it. "You're giving me an ultimatum? Dean..." 

 

"I'm not changin. And you want me to. And I don't have enough time left to waste it on drama. I get enough of that with freaking Sam."

 

"Enough time?"

 

She saw his jaw tighten, like she'd caught him out on something. "Are you in or are you out?"

 

"I... I'm..." she swallowed. "I'm always going to be an emotional woman. It's who I am...but I love you and I'm here for you and...and..."

 

"I can't do this, sweetheart." He  reached a hand out to touch her face. His lip trembled a little. "God, you're a great girl...but I can't." 

 

Carrie looked into his glassy eyes and he blinked and ducked into the bedroom to grab his jacket. 

 

"Dean." She said. "Don't leave me." 

 

"Be good, Sweetheart." He told her and he stopped to look at her face. She saw a tear escape the side of his eye. He dashed it away like it offended him. 

 

"Dean, please. We can talk about it. We can work it out."

 

His hand was on the door handle. "There's only one way this ends, Carrie. And it's not good. I'm just dragging out the misery and playing with you. You deserve more than that. More than me."

 

"You're playing with me?” She was shaking. “Are you planning to break my heart?"

 

"No sweetheart, but I'm poison. It's what I do."

 

She stepped toward him. "Dean, come on. Don’t."

 

He let go of the handle and pulled her into his arms. 

 

Carrie clung to him a moment and cried against his chest. She could feel him stiff and tense, waiting to leave. 

 

He squeezed her tightly for the dspace of several breaths and kissed the top of her head. "I gotta go. Be a good girl."

 

He released her.

 

She cried as his boots hit the steps and he jogged to the car. She saw his sad face through the windshield before he backed his baby up and was gone from view. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I usually don't ask for reviews here, but please drop me a line if you get a chance. This isn't the end but we are treading toward the last several chapters.


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